


Love's colours

by croissantbleu



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Deaf Clint Barton, First Dates, Fluff, Getting Together, I don't!, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Tony Stark, because who cares about their mcu versions, wanda is romani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 13:51:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croissantbleu/pseuds/croissantbleu
Summary: Everyone is born with a tattoo that changes colour along with their soulmate's moods, but without any way to know which feeling belongs to every colour. Steve is a small bookstore owner, and he just really hopes the dark blue colour on his arm stands for happiness.





	Love's colours

Steve's tattoo was almost always blue. He constantly caught himself glancing at the circles on his left arm, and more often than not, they were of this dark blue colour, and he only hoped that was the colour of his soulmate's happiness. It was a frustrating point for everyone he knew, not knowing what the colours meant because they changed from person to person, changing with their soulmate's emotions but without a way to know what emotions they stood for.

But he was used to it by now. His tattoo used to change colours a lot when he was a kid and he still vividly remembered that time when it stayed bright yellow for two weeks. Yellow was a rare colour, he’d never seen it before, and only a few times after that. He couldn’t remember when all the different colours started fading in this shade of blue that was so often here, but now it wasn’t changing very much. Just like the rest of his life.

Steve was quite a creature of habit, he couldn’t deny it. Always the same routine, leaving his flat in the morning, stopping for a coffee at the coffee shop next block, and making his way to open up the bookstore. He loved his job, he loved books, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was missing something. He saw a lot of people everyday, but they weren’t more than nameless faces. The only friends he really had were Clint and Tony, both regulars of the bookshop, and even they weren't close friends of his, more like people he hung out with from time to time. He didn’t have coworkers to talk with during lunch break, and he didn’t even remember meeting any of his neighbours. He’d think he was alone in the building if the wasn’t for the footsteps and the television noises he could hear sometimes when he couldn’t sleep, which was most of the time. He used the extra time to go to the gym nearby that was open all night, he liked that better than just lying in bed for hours with his eyes wide open.

But today, he decided to change something. There was a park next to the bookstore where he liked to go for his lunch break when it wasn't too cold, and he'd noticed a small coffee place he'd never tried before just next to the park, and he wanted to give it a shot, just to see. Who knew, maybe it’d be the detail changing his life for the better.

So there he was, pushing open the door and stepping in. It didn’t look that tiny inside, with a few of tables on a side, and the counter on the other. There were a couple people in line so Steve got behind them, he could see the long brown curls that the girl behind the counter had brought up in a ponytail bouncing as she prepared the drinks. The tattoo on her shoulder caught his eye, bright red and kinda looking like a wheel, and through a door behind her, he noticed a guy in the back room, with shoulder length hair half tied in a bun. He was cute, Steve thought. Really cute. He was so distracted that he didn't immediately realize it was his turn, and he was almost sure he saw the girl at the counter hold back a smile when he quickly walked up to her, his cheeks burning.

“I'm Wanda,” she smiled. “What can I help you with?”

“I'll have a white chocolate mocha to go, please,” Steve said, so fast, like it would make her forget the few seconds too much he’d spent looking at the guy in the back.

“On it! Can I get a name?”

“Sure, I'm Steve,” he smiled.

“Great,” she said, scribbling his name on the cup. “I won't be a second.”

“Thank you,” he nodded and stepped aside.

He barely had to wait before his drink was ready, and he thanked Wanda again and walked out, heading towards a bench in the park. It was a nice day, the autumnal sun still bright and warm on his skin. He liked these days, before it got cold and dark and the city seemed to have lost all of its life. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink. There were still weeks before the winter and he’d have more than enough time to get in the right state of mind. Besides, that coffee tasted great. He already knew he would come back sooner than he would’ve thought, but it had nothing to do with the cute guy in the back room, of course. He stayed on the bench for a while longer, enjoying his drink, before eventually standing up. He had received some books earlier this morning that he had yet to put in their place, and he knew that if he let it wait any longer, he would just never do it. He threw the empty cup away and started walking back to the bookstore, hands in his pockets.

 

* * *

Steve had gone back to the coffee shop nearly every day for the past two weeks. Wanda was mostly the one behind the counter, her hair always either tied up in a ponytail or pushed back behind a headband. She was nice, easy to make small talk to when there weren't too many customers waiting, but Steve kept getting distracted by the cute guy in the back. He didn't even know his name, but once, he'd noticed the prosthetic arm he had. Steve had almost asked about him to Wanda, but he didn't want to be creepy.

But this time, it wasn't Wanda he saw behind the counter when he walked in, but the guy from the back. It was the first time he could properly see his face and his tattoo, and Steve took the opportunity to discreetly watch him. The top half of his hair was tied into a braid, and there was a tattoo, a flower branch curling around his right eye. He could tell it was his soulmate tattoo by how the colour was shifting in front of him, from a dark forest green to a light pink. There was just one person in line before him so he barely had to wait before it was his turn. 

“Hi, my name is Bucky,” he said, with a smile that made the blue of his eyes stand out. “What can I get you?”

“I'll have a white chocolate mocha, please,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded, and Steve was pretty sure he saw him raise an eyebrow ever so slightly.

“C’mon, say it,” he smiled.

“No, no, it's just- you don't seem like the kind of guy to order that. You know it's like, disgustingly sweet, right?” 

“Yes sir,” Steve’s smile only grew bigger. “Just how I like it, so full of sugar it makes me nauseous.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “Alright then, you're the boss.”

“I’ve never seen you here,” Steve said. “I mean- I've seen you in the back a few times, but not behind the counter.”

“Ah, yeah,” Bucky smiled a little as he was making the drink. “The boss doesn't like me running the front too much, I think they’re not really sure I can handle it, because of my arm,” he shrugged. “But we’re short on staff today, so here I am.”

“Well, you seem to be doing just fine,” Steve commented.

“Thank you,” Bucky smiled again and handed him his drink. “I know I can handle it, I’ve had a prosthetic arm for nearly 20 years now, I know how to deal with it.”

"I'll believe you on that," Steve grinned. "Okay, I gotta go back to work," he added after a quick look at the time, searching his pockets and handing Bucky the money. "Thanks. It was nice talking to you," he said after hesitating a second.

Bucky smiled in return. "Nice talking to you too. I'll see you around, I guess?"

"You will," Steve laughed, waving at him before walking out.

He was nice, he thought as he headed towards the bookstore. The colour of his eyes was like engraved in his mind, an ice cold blue that seemed so warm when he was smiling. He shook his head and took a sip out of his mocha, and stopped when something caught his eye. His tattoo. It wasn't dark blue like usual, it hard turned to more of a teal colour. Teal was rare, but he always had a good feeling about it, he was almost sure it was a positive emotion, so he was glad. He was wondering when he'd meet them. Would he even know them? Maybe he'd get a feeling, they'd lock eyes and know instantly. Or maybe, maybe he wouldn't realize until much later. Everyone had a different soulmate story, but at least it was comforting to know that they were somewhere out there.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by loud voices and sounds of protestations. He frowned and followed the noises, turning the corner of the street to see two guys, just slightly younger than him, probably in their mid 20's, and a younger one, he couldn't be more than 18. And, judging by the look on his face, this was not just friends hanging out.

"Hey," Steve spoke up. "Everything alright over here?"

"We're fine," one of the older guys said.

"I wasn't talking to you," Steve curtly replied. "You okay there kiddo?"

"I'm- I'm fine, thank you sir," the younger kid said, swiftly moving away from the other two. "I was just going this way," he added, pointing the street where Steve came from.

"Well that's convenient, so was I until I heard someone making a ruckus. You two should go home and study maybe, you know, do something useful for once."

He turned around and the kid followed him closely. Neither of them said anything until they'd put some distance between them and the two guys.

"You're okay?" Steve asked eventually.

The kid nodded. "Yeah, I am. I'm used to it honestly, but thanks for the help."

"Of course," Steve smiled. "Hey, I'm working at the bookstore just two blocks away, if you want to just sit down for a minute and have a coffee or something, you're welcome there. There are seats and bean bags, and there's a nice coffee shop like five minutes that way," he added, pointing behind him.

"Oh, thanks but I’m running late, my friend Ned’s waiting for me,” he grinned.

"Okay,” Steve said. “It's a permanently standing offer, if you ever need to, there won't be any questions asked."

“Alright, thank you sir! That’s very nice.”

Steve laughed. “You can stop calling me ‘sir’, I’m not  _ that  _ old. My name’s Steve.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “It’s a habit. I’m Peter. Thanks again for earlier.”

“No problem,” Steve smiled. “I’ve been there. If they try anything again don’t hesitate to let me know, okay?”

“I will! Thanks Mr. Steve,” Peter waved at him as he walked away, and Steve laughed before heading back to the bookstore.

 

* * *

“Rogers, do you plan on ever getting rid of these boxes?” Tony commented, lightly kicking one of them.

“I'm working on it!” Steve protested. “There's just… so many of them, man, and I have stuff to do, you know.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” Tony chuckled, grabbing a book on the self.

“Put that down,” Steve complained from behind his desk. “This is a customer’s order, not yours.”

Tony looked like he was going to make another comment, but he was interrupted by the door opening.

“Hi Mr. Steve!,” Peter waved. “I’m taking up on that offer from the other day. I’ll be in the science section,” he added, disappearing behind a shelf.

“And who was that?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve adopted a kid since the last time I’ve seen you.”

Steve laughed. “No, of course not. I got him out of a bad situation the other day, said that he could hang out here whenever he wanted to. Hey, kid,” he added, raising his voice. “Want anything from the coffeeshop?”

“Hot chocolate, please!” Peter replied. “As sugary as they can make it without legally getting in trouble!”

Steve and shook his head. “D’you want me to get you something?” he asked Tony.

“Just a black coffee, thanks. I’ll hold the fort until you’re back,” Tony smiled, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Don’t mess anything up,” Steve warned them a last time before heading out. 

It was getting colder, and he was regretting not taking a scarf today. He had to stay at the bookstore later than usual, and he really was not looking forward to walking home in the freezing air. He hurried to the coffeeshop, shuddering when he finally walked in, stepping aside to let the other customer out.

“Hey, you okay, there?” Bucky asked behind the counter, the tattoo around his eye smoothly shifting from a pretty turquoise to a warm forest green.

Steve had seen him in the front more and more over these past few weeks, and he was glad he got to talk to him a little more every day.

“Yeah,” he smiled, trying to warm up his hands. “It’s just really cold outside.”

“A coffee could warm you up,” Bucky suggested, rising an eyebrow as a small grin grew on his lips.

“That’s the idea,” Steve chuckled. “I’ll have a white chocolate mocha, please, with a black coffee and, I quote, a hot chocolate with as much sugar as you legally can put in it.”

Bucky burst out laughing. “Alright chief, I'm on it. It's getting late, shouldn't you be on your way home?” he added after a moment

“I wish,” Steve grimaced. “It's inventory day, I'm gonna be here for two more hours at least. Thanks,” he added when Bucky set the drinks in front of him, putting the money on the counter.

“Like that?” Bucky frowned. “You're going to catch something, give me a second.”

He disappeared in the back and Steve raised an eyebrow, not sure of what he was doing, but he waited for him to come back anyway, and picked up the drinks. When he returned with a black scarf in hand, Steve could feel an odd warmth burning the tip of his ears.

“There you go,” Bucky said, before shyly adding “Can I? You got your hands full.”

Steve nodded and tried his best not to react when Bucky carefully wrapped the scarf around his neck.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “What about you, though? You're going to be cold now.”

“Nah,” Bucky grinned widely. “My shift is nearly over, I'll be home soon and it's not that cold outside. And, I don't mind,” he shrugged. “But what would we do if our favourite bookstore had to be closed because the owner has the flu?”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Thank you,” he said again. “I'll bring it back tomorrow, promised.”

“Awesome,” Bucky smiled again, making the corner of his eyes crinkle, and Steve just noticed how his tattoo had gone to a mix of red and a peach colour. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow!” Steve waved at him before heading out.

He was a lot warmer with the scarf, and when he pulled it over his nose to protect it from the biting air, he caught a faint whiff of cinnamon and jasmine, and that was enough to make him bite back a smile. He hurried back to the bookstore and set the drinks down on his desk.

“Coffee and chocolate delivery,” he called out.

Peter rushed out to grab his cup with a “thanks Mr. Steve!” before disappearing back behind a shelf, and he heard him say “ooh yeah, that's the good stuff” after a second or two. Tony begrudgingly got up from his seat to get his coffee, and raised both eyebrows at Steve.

“You didn't have a scarf when you left, did you?”

“Mind your business, Stark,” Steve replied, fighting the warmth in his cheeks. “I have work to do.”

The little humming sounds Tony made assured him he wasn't fooling him in the slightest, but he firmly intended on pretending otherwise.

 

* * *

When he came back around lunch time the next day, it wasn’t Bucky behind the counter, but Wanda. She smiled at him when it was his turn.

“Hi! The usual?”

“Please,” Steve smiled back. “I thought Bucky was in today?”

“Oh, well he was supposed to but he accepted to trade shifts with me, I can't make it tonight, something came up. Sorry, I know you're disappointed,” she teased him. 

Steve laughed. “Come on, you know you're my favourite. Could you give this to him then, please?” he added, handing her Bucky’s scarf and a piece of paper folded in half.

“Will do,” she assured him. “And here's your drink.”

“Thanks Wanda,” he smiled. “I need to go back to work, have a good day!”

Today was busy, lots and lots of students coming in to find the books they needed. This was a busy period every year, when teachers gave new readings assignments and everyone came rushing in to get them on time. Clint and him always made bets on which books it would be that year. 

Speaking of Clint, he showed up at the end of the day, ready to settle the scores.

“Steve, my man,” he said with a smile when he walked in.

“Hey there,” Steve replied. “Ready to lose?”

He was always careful to articulate properly when talking to Clint, he knew he wanted to practice lip reading. 

“You wish,” Clint laughed. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Let’s see,” Steve pulled out his receipts book. “Looks like  _ 1984  _ is in first place this year, they’re gonna have fun.”

“Hey, you know what that means,” Clint grinned, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“Dammit,” Steve complained. “You’re a teacher, that’s cheating!”

“A preschool teacher,” he reminded him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just a sore loser.”

Steve was about to come up with a smart reply when Peter walked through the door.

“Hi Mr. Steve!”

“Hey kid,” Steve smiled.

Clint turned to look at who walked in and his face lit up, at the same time as Peter’s did. Peter started to sign quickly, fingers swiftly dancing in excitation, and Clint was replying just as fast. Steve’s still not great at ASL but he’d been learning, and he could just make out that they’d known each other for a few years.

“Sorry,” Peter turned to Steve, hands still moving with what he was saying. “Mr. Clint helped me to learn ASL like, three years ago, my boyfriend was deaf and he didn’t like lip reading or talking by text too much, so I wanted to learn it for him. His little sister was in preschool  at the time and she’d always talk about how her and her teacher would talk in sign language sometimes and teach the kids so I asked him for help!”

“That’s awesome,” Steve smiled. “I’ve been trying to learn it too, but I’m very slow. Oh, sorry,” he added when his phone started ringing. “Hello?”

“Hi, uhm, Steve?” the person on the phone asked. “It’s Bucky.”

“Oh, Bucky! Hi,” Steve smiled.

“Hi,” he chuckled. “I uh, just wanted to say thanks. For the scarf. Wanda gave it to me, said you’d brought it back.”

While Bucky was talking, Steve could see Peter and Clint signing back and forth, and his knowledge of ASL might not be very good but he could still tell that Peter asked who Bucky was, and Clint replied with the sign for “boyfriend.” Steve rushed to protest, signing “no!” with determination.

“I did,” he said in the phone. “I meant to come back in the afternoon, but work was pretty hectic today,” he added, almost apologetic. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky laughed. “It was busy here too, I just finished my shift. Thanks for the number, by the way.”

“Thanks for calling,” Steve replied, biting back a smile. “Figured it could be useful if I have to steal your scarf again.”

Bucky laughed again. “Good call,” he said. “Anyway, I won’t bother you anymore, I just wanted to say thanks.”

“No problem at all! I guess I’ll see you at the coffee shop?” Steve asked.

“You sure will,” Bucky assured him with a smile in his voice before hanging up.

“I hate you,” Steve said to Clint, but that only made him laugh.

*

After that, Bucky and him started to text, more and more as time went on, to the point where they were basically texting all day every day and Bucky had almost gotten in trouble for it once or twice.

Steve liked it, a lot. He just felt… comfortable, with him, in a way that he couldn't remember feeling before.

He woke up to his phone ringing one night, and in the dim light his tattoo seemed to have turned yellow. He replied without seeing who was calling, screen too bright to read. At this hour, it couldn't be anything else than an emergency anyway.

“ Hello?” he asked, before clearing his throat because his voice was so raspy.

“Steve?” It was Bucky’s voice, but he sounded off. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn't have called I didn't realize it'd be so late, I- I'm really sorry I woke you up-”

“Bucky?” Steve interrupted him softly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, really. I'm sorry,” he apologized again.

“You don't sound okay,” Steve pointed out, still speaking quietly, in hopes of calming him down.

“I-” Bucky started, before pausing and letting out a sigh. “My arm hurts,” he said eventually. “The one that's not there.”

“Oh,” Steve sat up, not really sure of what he should say. “Is there anything you can do to help with that?”

“Not really,” Bucky groaned. “It's worse at night because I don't have anything else to focus on. I'd put something stupid on tv but I don't want to wake up anyone else, the walls are paper thin here.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, same here. We could just talk, if you want to?”

“If you don't mind?” he asked hesitantly. “I don't want to keep you awake, it's just, I-I don't know who else to talk to, I don't want to worry Wanda and I know she'd mean well but she'd overreact and-”

“It's okay” Steve rushed to reassure him. “Honestly, I never really get much sleep anyway, it's fine.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said, and he sounded so relieved. 

And they talked and talked, about anything that came to mind and Steve had quickly lost track of time, one little story after the other, until Bucky had eventually fallen asleep while still on the phone. Steve had smiled and hung up, before sending him a text to say goodnight. When he went back to sleep himself, he noticed how his tattoo had shifted from a bright yellow to a more gentle peach.

 

* * *

“I brought pizzas!” Steve called out from behind the door.

Tony opened it not long after, a large grin on his lips. 

“Hey, come in,” he said.

“Pepper’s not there?” Steve asked as he stepped in, kicking off his shoes.

“Nan, she's visiting her mum,” Tony took the pizza boxes from Steve's hands to out them on the table. “But she told me to tell you she says hi.”

“That's nice,” Steve smiled. “You should follow her example.” He barely ducked the slap on the head Tony went to give him. “Hey, you're being mean now!”

“You be nice or you're out of my house,” Tony threatened him, pointing a finger. “What movie d’you wanna watch?”

“ _ The Cloverfield Paradox _ ? I'm up for weird freaky sci-fi.”

“Here for that,” Tony approved, setting up the movie before joining Steve on the couch. “You know I love some weird sci-fi with pizza.”

Steve laughed and they started the film, each grabbing a piece of pizza. After a while, he noticed Tony shifting and looking uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay? Does your chest hurt?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced. “Shirt’s rubbing on my scars. D’you mind if I take it off?”

“Of course not, I can go get your heat pack if you want,” Steve offered. “I know the cold makes it worse sometimes.”

“Nah that’s fine, thanks. If you could pass my the blanket next to you that’d be great though. Thank you,” he smiled. “Hey, look how good my chest looks! I’m still not over it.”

“It does look great,” Steve grinned. “Especially because I know how worried about the scars you were, the healing is going fantastic.”

“Thanks, man, it's my trans superpower. Super healing. That, and being super handsome. This  _ is  _ a weird movie,” Tony commented, focusing back on the film.

“I know,” Steve laughed. “I have no idea what’s going on. I kinda like it, though.”

Tony nodded and grabbed another slice of pizza.

 

* * *

Bucky and Steve had gotten the habit of calling late at night, when Steve couldn't sleep or Bucky’s arm was hurting. Steve had found that the best way to distract him was to tell him a story, usually one he made up on the spot. Maybe he'd spent enough time buried in books and fantasy tales that he was getting good at inventing them. And Bucky, Bucky was good at making him laugh, no matter what, whenever he talked to him he could feel a strange bubbly feeling in his chest that he never wanted to go away. He was always looking forward to it, even if they were texting all the time, he still could never wait to talk to him on the phone.

 

* * *

“Trust me,” Clint said. “This is going to be fun.”

“At least tell me where we're going,” Steve complained, signing along. “Why are you so weird all of the sudden?”

“I said “ _ trust me _ ”, that implies you stop asking questions you know I won't answer,” he replied with a knowing smile.

Steve grumbled in disapprovement but stayed quiet. There was no use in trying to get to the bottom of this before Clint had decided to tell him what was going on, for now he just had to wait and see, as frustrating as that was. He wasn’t too fond of walking through the snow when it was already dark, but he followed him into a building, and Clint walked straight to the reception desk.

“Hi,” he smiled to the lady at the desk. “My friend here has signed up for tonight's painting class, his name is Steve Rogers.”

“Yes, I have him on the list just here,” she smiled back. “It's right this way, at the end of the corridor. The class will start shortly.”

“Thank you,” Steve said with a nod, starting to walk to the door before realizing Clint wasn't following him. “Clint?”

“Yeah, painting’s not my thing,” he shrugged. “That's the moment where I go home.”

“What, you're just going to leave me here like that?” Steve frowned.

“Yep,” Clint grinned. “Have fun.”

Steve sighed and shook his head, and turned around to join the class. A handful of people were already there, and the person dealing with all this showed him to the last available canvas, and he felt like he knew the hairstyle of the person right next to it. His suspicions were confirmed when he got closer and saw it was Bucky, whose face seemed to lit up when he sat next to him.

“Steve! Hey,” he smiled. 

“Hey,” Steve replied, ignoring the bubbling in his chest. “Let me guess, Tony brought you here?”

“He did,” Bucky nodded. “Now I'm assuming this wasn't your idea?”

“Not at all,” he laughed. “They're impossible, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Bucky smiled. “Can't say I regret getting to spend some more time with you,” he added with a chuckle.

“Yeah,” Steve smiled back. “I can’t really say that either.”

“Have to warn you though, I’m terrible at drawing,” he laughed. “I can’t draw anything at all, so this is going to be fun.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not very good either,” Steve reassured him, and he noticed how Bucky’s tattoo had gone from yellow to a pretty turquoise.

The guy leading the class - Thomas - started to explain what they were going to do, and they quickly all started working on their canvas. Steve and Bucky were chatting all along, but the rule was to not look at the others’ paintings so they both stayed focused on their own thing until the very end, and they were all done.

“Alright!,” Thomas said. “If everyone’s done, you can show your canvas to your partner.”

Steve felt the tip of his ears heat up at the word “partner”, and both his and Bucky’s tattoo changed colour at the same time, respectively to orange and red, and they turned their easel towards each other.

“I can’t believe you’d lie to me,” Bucky blurted out. “You’re a great artist! This was false advertisement, I didn’t stand a chance.”

Steve laughed. “Hey, yours isn’t that bad either,” he protested.

Bucky’s was less detailed and realistic than his, but it was so much more expressive and full of feelings, the two eyes he’d painted in the middle surrounded by bright colours interweaving and it was so… passionate.

“I love it,” he said. “I love how energic it is.”

“You’re nice,” Bucky smiled. “I’m lucky I can draw with my right hand. Wait, is that me?” he asked when he took a closer look at Steve’s painting.

“Uhm, yeah. You have really great hair, you always have super cool hairstyles.”

“Thank you,” Bucky blushed a little. “You got my favourite one down,” he giggled, “the half braid one. And, you nailed the prosthetic arm.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m not so good at painting, I’m much more comfortable with just sketching.”

“I’ll have to see that one day, then,” Bucky smiled as he stood up. “Wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” Steve grinned.

Thomas had explained they could leave the paintings there and come get them at another time if they wanted to, so they decided not to struggle with it for now. The snow had started to accumulate on the ground while they were inside and it wasn’t over yet, delicate snowflakes landing on Bucky’s hair and Steve was feeling himself falling hard with them, every one of them seemingly bringing him spiraling faster.

They hurried to the closest café still open, shivering when they finally got in and a wave of warmth washed over them.

“I can’t feel my hands,” Steve complained, 

As soon as he said that, Bucky took both of his hands in his. 

“Pros of having a prosthetic arm is that it can’t feel the cold,” he joked and Steve had to bite back a smile.

“Convenient,” he said, and Bucky laughed. “My hands are always cold for some reason, maybe I’m part lizard.”

Bucky laughed again. “Shut up, no you’re not! You’re impossible. Let’s go sit down before we get thrown out because you’re being too weird.”

Steve couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as Bucky dragged him to the table the server was taking them to. They kept bickering all the way through dinner and Steve’s cheeks were hurting from smiling, and he didn’t miss the amused looks the servers were giving them.

The snow was still falling when they walked out again, and Steve offered to walk Bucky home, just to make sure he'd get there alright. They walked in the dark, their laughs echoing in the streets behind them and the snow twirling in the only light of the lamp posts, and it was intoxicating, this feeling of freedom and Steve wished it would never end.

He didn't realize where they were until Bucky stopped.

“Well, that's me,” he said.

“Wait,” Steve frowned. “In this building?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You're kidding me,” he chuckled. “That's- That's where I live.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No way. Really?”

“Yep. Apartment 3B,” Steve said. “Across from Mrs. Filcher.”

“Steve,” he smiled. “I'm 4B. Just above you.”

Steve started to laugh, and Bucky joined in quickly.

“I can't believe we didn't know that! What the hell,” Steve shook his head. “We're a mess.”

“We are,” Bucky laughed a little again. “Well, let's get in then, no use in staying in the cold.”

Steve agreed and so they did, walking into the hall and up to the third floor, and stopped in front of Steve's apartment.

“So, goodnight then,” Bucky said with a smile. “I had fun tonight.”

“Me too,” Steve smiled back. “Goodnight.”

Bucky walked back to the stairs with a last wave, and Steve walked into his flat.

*

Steve couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning in bed, unable to keep his kind quiet. He gave in, eventually, got up and put shoes on, grabbing keys and phone before leaving his apartment.

He was in front of Bucky’s before he knew it, knocking on his door two or three times before he opened it, disheveled and not wearing his prosthetic, his tattoo a mix of purple and pink.

“Steve, hey,” he smiled. “Can't sleep?”

“No,” Steve admitted. “I, uh, needed to talk to you. I… like you. A lot. That became clear tonight.”

“Well, good,” Bucky’s smile grew larger. “Because I like you too.”

Steve felt relief wash over it, and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.

“I really want to kiss you, now,” he admitted.

“You'd better,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow.

Steve laughed quietly and bent down a little to kiss him, feeling his hand making its way on the back of his neck, thumb resting just behind his ear.

“Wanna come in?” Bucky whispered against his lips.

“Yes,” he breathed, and Bucky kissed him again as they stumbled inside, locking the door behind them.

 

* * *

“Hey, Steve!” Wanda called out when he walked in the coffee shop. “Got a minute?”

“Sure,” he smiled

She winked and walked to the backroom for a second before coming back out and motioning over to one of the free tables, where Steve followed her.

“I took my break,” she explained. “So, you and Bucky, huh?”

“Yeah,” he blushed a little.

“Took you long enough,” she sighed, “Bucky hasn't stopped talking about you since the first time you came in here. I thought I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

Steve laughed. “You weren't the only one, my friends did set us up on a date.”

“My kind of people,” she approved. “Look, I care about Bucky a lot, he's like my brother. And family's really important to me, blood or not. I'm Romani, my family's part of who I am, it always has been. So, I like you, but I'm in the obligation to say that if you hurt him, you'll have to deal with me.”

“Don't worry,” he smiled again. “I just want to see him happy.”

“Good answer,” she laughed. “Can I hug you?”

Steve nodded and they both stood up,  Wanda wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“I'm glad he found you,” she mumbled.

“I'm glad I found him,” Steve replied softly.

 

* * *

Steve slept a lot better now that he was spending most of his nights at Bucky’s. His mind was quieter, not so busy with lonely thoughts and the tight feeling in his chest. And Bucky’s phantom pains were less and less frequent, still there but slowly getting easier to deal with when Steve was there, Bucky had said his presence was comforting.

“You know,” Bucky said, “if you're going to spend all your time here, you might as well move in. It'll be cheaper for both of us,” he added with a smile.

It was a Sunday morning and they were both still in bed, Bucky's head on Steve's shoulder and Steve’s fingers just grazing his side, enjoying the warmth of the spring sun pouring through the window.

“Hm, I was thinking about it,” he admitted. “Only if you want to, though.”

“I mean, you're pretty much living here already,” Bucky chuckled. “You don't have to decide now or anything, I just wanted to mention it.”

“Thank you,” he smiled.

They fell quiet again for a moment, and Steve looked down at this tattoo. The dark blue was gone now, leaving in its place a lively teal that he liked much more.

“Do you-” He paused. “Do you think we could be each other's soulmates?”

“We could be,” Bucky replied. “I'd like that,” he added with a smile in his voice.

“When I was a kid,” Steve remembered, “It stayed bright yellow for a good two weeks straight. Does that remind you of anything?”

“Twenty years ago? In May?” he asked, and Steve nodded. “That's when I got into the car accident. I was scared shitless for those two weeks, couldn't leave my bed. It was the same colour when I called you at night, right?”

“It was,” Steve confirmed. “I noticed it, because it was usually always dark blue until recently.”

Bucky smiled.

“When did it start changing more?” he asked. “These last six months or so? Then yeah, it's me.”

“Why, what happened six months ago?” Steve asked, curious.

“I met you.”

Steve felt his whole face heat up and groaned, hiding in his hands. Bucky laughed and sat up, gently removing them and leaning down to kiss him.

“I love you,” he murmured when he moved back.

“I love you too,” Steve smiled softly, fingers tracing Bucky’s tattoo. “I’m so lucky I met you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Bucky replied, before leaning in again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was my first steve/bucky fic so I hope you all enjoyed it ^^  
> don't hesitate to tell me what you thought about it in the comments! you can talk to me on twitter @honeyncrystal or on my brand-new marvel tumblr, @cosybucky


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